Casey Daniels - Dead Man Talking

I suppose since I have this Gift and all, I should be sensitive to vibes, or atmosphere, or something. Not so. The only vibe I got from room 12 of the Lake View Motel was the I-can’t-wait-to-get-this-over-with-so-I-can-get-out-of-here vibe. And that had nothing to do with the paranormal and everything to do with the place being rundown, dirty, and just plain disgusting.

The broken window and missing boards let in enough light for me to get a look around. There was no furniture and the rug was gone, too. The cement floor was pitted and wet in spots. If I squinted really hard and used my imagination, I could make out what must have once been beige paint on the walls. It was splotchy and scrawled with graffiti. Apparently, the neighborhood kids knew a good place to hang out and get high when they saw one. There were more than a few empty beer cans on the floor, scraps of a ratty blanket, and a pile of charred sticks that showed someone had once tried to light a fire in the center of the room.

There was no sign of that someone now, thank goodness, and just to make sure there were no critters lurking to surprise me, either, I clapped my hands and stomped my feet. No scurrying, no squeaks, no squeals. I breathed a sigh of relief.

I’d remembered to bring a flashlight, and I dug it out of my purse and flicked it on, training its light on the crime scene photo I plucked out of the file.

I stood just inside the door where the photographer had been standing when he took the picture that showed the entire room, comparing the photo to the empty space in front of me. It would have been easier if the light was better.

The bathroom door was directly in front of me, and it was closed. If there was a window in there-and if it wasn’t boarded-I knew I could count on a little more light. As it turned out, there was a window that was maybe two feet square, high up on the wall. It was broken but not boarded up. Perfect, except that as soon as I pushed the door open, it swung shut again.

Frustrated, I went back out into the bedroom and looked for something I could use to prop the door. I grabbed one of the sticks from the almost-fire, wedged it between the door and the jamb and when the door stayed open, just like I wanted it to, I congratulated myself. “Good work, Pepper,” I murmured, and while I was in there, I looked around.

The bathroom was no more spectacular than the rest of the place. The toilet and sink were gone and the bathtub was filled with debris. The floor-or at least the parts of it that hadn’t been worn away by time-was black and white linoleum, the wallpaper was kitschy. It was dotted with pink flamingoes and green palm trees, and even though they were faded, they looked too playful and tropical to be part of the decay.

In spite of myself, I wondered what Vera had thought about those flamingoes.

And I shivered.

It was better to concentrate on the facts than it was to get mired in emotional details, and just so I wouldn’t forget it, I stepped back into the other room, all set to get to work.

I would have done, too-if I hadn’t heard someone walking right outside the door.

I hauled in a breath and stood rooted to the spot, watching as a shadow slipped under the door. I held my breath when the doorknob turned, and I thought about darting back into the bathroom and slamming the door, but one look over my shoulder at that window-and one thought about how small and how high up on the wall it was-made me change my mind. If I needed a quick exit, I wouldn’t find it in that direction.

The picture window was my best bet, and with that in mind, I grabbed another one of the sticks from the fire, darted over to stand behind the door, and held my ground.

“Pepper?” A voice from outside whispered my name, but this did not reassure me in the least. I reminded myself that the mugger who’d nearly sliced open my windpipe knew where I lived. It wasn’t much of a stretch to think he might also know my name.

I clutched the branch tighter.

“Pepper?” The voice called to me again, and a head and shoulders popped through the window. “Are you-”

I’d already shot forward, ready to administer a mighty blow, so it was a good thing I stopped myself just as I was about to bring the branch down on Absalom’s head.

“What you doing, woman?” He shot straight back, one hand clutched to his heart. “You nearly scared me to death!”

I leaned forward for a better look, just in case my eyes were playing tricks on me. It was the first I realized Crazy Jake, Sammi, Delmar, and Reggie were with him. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Maybe we should ask you the same question.” Without further explanation, Absalom stepped over the windowsill into the room. Sammi was so short, it was clear she would do herself some serious damage if she attempted the move on her own, so Absalom lifted her up and hoisted her inside. The rest of my team followed.

Always the spokesman, Absalom shook his head. “Don’t seem like the kind of place a woman like you should be hanging out. What are you up to?”

It seemed only fair to counter with a question of my own. “How did you find me? And why would you follow me in the first place?”

Like he was amazed that I was being so dense, Absalom shook his head. “You been sneakin’ around for weeks, and we all had a talk about it.” Our fellow teammates acknowledged that he was right by nodding. “You’re going to get yourself in some trouble if you’re not careful. Can’t guarantee that voodoo doll I gave you is going to guard against every evil.” A shiver snaked across his massive shoulders. “Especially in a place like this.”

“Nothing here you should even care about.” This came from Reggie, who actually looked pretty much at home in the dilapidated mess.

“Unless you’re up to something…” Absalom dragged out the last word, giving me every opportunity to jump right in.

I might have been able to hold out when it came to Reggie. And I sure could have ignored Crazy Jake (who wasn’t paying all that much attention anyway, since he was kicking around the room and snapping pictures). I could have debated the wisdom of hanging around the Lake View with Absalom. Or made up some bullshit story to satisfy Sammi and Delmar.

But I couldn’t resist them all.

I gave in with as much good grace as I could muster. “I’m investigating a murder,” I said.

“Cool!” Sammi shot forward. “Somebody got murdered? Here?”

“Yeah, twenty-five years ago.”

“And you’re looking into it…” Absalom’s expression was as thoughtful as his voice. “Why?”

Honest to gosh, I thought about telling them the truth. For all I knew, my teammates just might believe me when I told them about the dead who visited and the cases I’d taken on their behalfs.

I decided to play my cards close to my chest.

“You’ve seen Jefferson Lamar’s grave,” I said.

Delmar stepped forward. “Where we found that coin.”

“That’s right. He’s the guy who was convicted of murdering Vera.”

“The girl who died in this room.”

Sammi had made the comment, and I nodded toward her. “Lamar’s wife doesn’t think he did it.”

“And you’re trying to prove it?” Absalom asked.

I pulled back my shoulders. “Believe it or not, I’ve done this sort of thing before. I mean, I’m not a professional or anything, but I’m pretty good at it.”

“I don’t doubt that for one minute.” Absalom said this in a way that made me think I’d jumped the gun when it came to getting all defensive. “But why here?”

“I’ve got the original police file from the murder,” I explained, “and the crime scene photos. I thought if I came here and looked around-”

“You’d get a sense of the place, and of everything that happened here. Yeah, I get that.” Absalom folded his arms over his chest. “So why didn’t you ask us to help in the first place?”